Trembley-Pines 2012
by Charles Oberonn
Summary: Quenting Trembley III ships himself back to the town he founded to reunite with the Pines twins and ask them a very special request, to be his vice presidents on his Re-Election campaign to win the presidency in the 2012 Election.


**Note: Why isn't Trembley in the character boxlist for this site, but Gideon appears twice?**

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Trembley-Pines 2012

**Part 1**

One of Gravity Falls' most horrible secrets in the modern era is the existence of a functional postal office and a live culture of letter delivering and reading.

The horrors of the town never cease to amaze and shock you to your very soul.

On the day the Trembley-Pines campaign began the Pine Twins were having a search around the town for the assumingly hidden and dusty far-off Postal Office.

Searching for every nook and cranny, any dark caves and haunted alleys the Post Office was yet to be found.

"Dipper, we've been searching for hours!" Mabel yanked on her twin's hair a tiny bit, nearly causing him to fall off.

Giving a piggy ride to a person exactly your size and weight is tiring. Ironically enough, of all the things Mabel brought along to the unofficial Pines day in town trip, the pig was the one thing Dipper didn't need to give a piggy ride.

"Mabel, why don't you please get off me, just a short bit, I am much more tired than you?" Dipper said, his sorry back having more a say in his words than his brain does.

"Should I add that to the list?" Mabel asked, leaning forward to look at her brother's face from above, this put Dipper out of balance and nearly launched the two of them to the floor.

"You brought that stupid victory list with you? Am I carrying a victory list as well?!" Dipper grunted.

"Of course not, silly…" Mabel said, she yawned; Dipper took the opportunity to grunt again.

"Waddle does." She leaned sideway, pointing at her pet pig walking besides them on a leash she held, that leaning once again put Dipper on his way to fall.

"Oi! Watch it." He said and kept going after balancing himself. "Well, I guess they're not that heavy to carry."

"Nope..." Mabel was failing to hold her chuckles in. "But the Titanium Pen is." She burst out laughing, until the heavy pen she was holding fell on top of her twin's head.

"Oops." She said, looking worried, but still chuckling.

"OKAY!" Dipper shouted, gaining a glance from a lone passerby who was strolling down the empty part of town.

"Everybody off." He jumbled around and put his sister down with a start. Mabel was startled but she landed on her feet, unlike her brother, who despite initiating the move, fell on the floor face first.

He watch with hate as the titanium pen rolled in front of his grounded eyes. He grunted again.

"Here, take this. And fill another mark for me at Tolerating… um" He was stumbled for word, "Mabelness."

"Ooh! I like that word!" Mabel said and picked up the heavy pen from his arm with some difficulties.

"Which is why you don't win at Tolerating it." He said, "Enjoying it or being it, doesn't count."

There was a long silence as the two strolled by, Dipper watching his sister struggle to write down the nonsense he said onto the board with the winning charts, using a several kilograms pen was probably only second to her indecisiveness at what drawing to make.

The silence was broken finally by a happy squeal from Waddle the pig. The two humans looked up to where the pink beast 'pointed'.

It was the Post Office, grand, clean and not-at-all oddly shaped.

"We finally found it, in the most secret inner hidden circle of the town-" Dipper monologue.

"It's the central town square!" Mabel shouted, indeed the area around the post office was busy and alive.

"I know that, I was being sarcastic."

"And I was being Anti-Sarcastic." Mabel announced.

"You mean, non-sarcastic?" Dipper looked at his sister when they enter through the glass door to the Post Office.

"Nope, non-sarcastic is like non- um…" Now Mabel was stuck with words. "It is just… you know… and I am against."

"Is that so? You're not just, you're against. Justice is none of your business as a great oppose." Dipper said more relaxed and less pained as he picked a number and took a seat between the busy waiting benches.

"Not justice just, just only just." Mabel made herself clear.

"I am an againster of evil purposes attacking the common good of common speech." She monologues as she took the empty seat next to him.

"It is my duty as a congresswoman." She picked out her top hat from the bag Dipper had to carry beforehand.

"Oh yeah, that guy." Dipper said "He made you that hat." He looked down into the fabled key he just picked out of Mabel's bag. The key to every door in the USA he got as a thank you gift from the 8.5th president of the United States.

"Not just the hat!" Mabel said. "And this time it is the justice just, and not, at the same time."

"He also gave me the ability to make the most important decisions in the lives of all the USA followers!"

"Yeah." Dipper was too busy in deep thought for his sister's nonsense. "I wonder what-"

"Don't wonder, Dipper gent. Know!" A surprising voice arose from the seat behind the two.

The two twins looked back with a start. There was no one sitting there, there was only a big human sized crate, seemingly the crate was the source of the voice.

"Or better yet, guess." The voice said, indeed the box was the origin of the 19th century accented silly voice.

"Guess, Pines gentleman, who's in the box?"

"Is the president?!" Dipper asked with excited tone, glad to see his friend.

"Yes!" a sound effect of fireworks was heard from within the crate. Then a silence.

"Umm… Mr. President?" Dipper knocked on the crate.

"Trembley boy?!" Mabel yelled in concerned panic and fake 19th century accent.

"Yes, at this point." Quentin Trembley said from within the box, "I would get out of the box with fireworks and a rain of roaring lion." He announced "but this thing breaks the laws of your boring America, and the laws of physics." He complained and rumbled something about faulty animal rain regulation.

"You're stuck inside the box, right?" Mabel asked, Dipper thought the same.

"Can somebody please lend me his trusty woodchuck?"

"I will get you out." Dipper sighed and got to work, after a minute Quentin Trembley III was free, both from the crate and from the prison of pants. His pantaloons were showing proud.

"My sincere thank-you giving, young Pines." The ex-president shook Dipper's hand and bowed a gentleman bow to Mabel who giggled.

"SINCERE!" Mabel shouted, "That was the word I was looking for."

"Holy Brunch Knuckles!" Quentin shouted, "We must get you to safety right now!" He grabbed Mabel's hand and ran, Mabel ran with him, not even resisting a tiny bit.

"Trembley!" Dipper asked before the two ran off too far.

"Yes, young beetleborn?" The living fossil turned around.

"Didn't you have some sort of purpose in coming here?" the boy asked as Mabel and Quentin sat next to him.

"Why, I was to be here for the very same reason you shall have will become into here for the same time around."

"English please." Dipper asked, "I am going to start talking like that now." Mabel commented.

"I am here to pick up the letter you were sent (pardon the pun) here to pick up, by what is, I am sure, a very noble post servant." Quentin explained.

"How could you not understand that?!" Mabel said.

"Wait…" Dipper said, "The phone lady said the letter was for us, how can you be having it, or even know about it?"

"You see, young Dipper, like a Mobius Strip, the postal system has two sides."

"Actually-"

"The receiver side, you. And the sender side, me."

There was a short silence.

"So you sent us the letter? And now you're here in person."

"Yes…" Quentin said "You see…" he was interrupted when a digital "beep" signified a queue number passing.

"Oh, it's your turn to pick up my letter." Quentin got up and went for the counter.

"Actually Mr. President, it's not our turn yet." Dipper said, Mabel proved it by showing him the number they picked.

"Nonsense, if the Trembley III IVX initiative I've made has succeeded, the number 51 is now 6ß, which is close enough."

"I am pretty sure it didn't."

"But that doesn't matter, the Temperature-Matters law I've made assured that the Trembley III IVX initiative will succeed on hot days."

"That didn't pass either."

"But it was a hot day when I called it!"

"That's not how causality works."

"Oh Hamburds."

"Humburds indeed." Mabel announced.0

"Yeah..." Dipper sighed.

Eventually their turn arrived under real math as well as Trembley one and they picked up their letter.

"I hope the letter hasn't rotted yet from all that weird math of your era." Quentin Trembley III popped the letter open and sighed with relief. It was an old 19th century envelope.

"I don't think something can rot from an extra 20 minutes of wait, Mr. Trembley." Mabel said.

"Wait, rotted?!" Dipper gasped, "What in tarnation did you send us?"

"A political invitation, of course." The president opened the envelope and showed its interior to Mabel.

"And it helps your eye sight!" she exclaimed happily.

"What?!"

"Dipper and Mabel Pines, I would like you two to be the sparking shines, my two vices for my presidential campaign this year!" Quentin Trembley announced.

"Now, co-vice-spark-president Dipper, please write all of America's problems on this carrot, so I could solve them." He handed Dipper a poorly peeled, slightly rotten carrot.

Dipper just gasped, staring at the carrot, only looking away to stare at Trembley.

"That look of awe, and longing." Trembley chuffed his chin.

"Just what I feared, America's No. 1 problem is…"

"Carrot shortage!"


End file.
